January 23 Irish greens mull leaving cabinet

The air was full of tiny spores, already the coriander and basil had wilted and tensions were getting to breaking point between the protected products in glass or cardboard and those left to tough it out naked. Flour bugs, the cause of the atmospheric poison, had burrowed down into the tiny recess between the panels, waiting for a new home or food source.

Items had been put away without thought, the unpacking entrusted to the daughter who filled spaces like a Tetris programmer, from the fridge to the cupboards and finally the old cabinet that served as a pantry for things which 'may come in useful in the future'. The largest of the greens, his edges becoming brown and crisp had a plan to escape but lacked the ability to communicate efficiently. He had no way of knowing that each of the greens had thought of exactly the same plan.